


SINS ☾

by alphavictory



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9483779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphavictory/pseuds/alphavictory
Summary: An I Write Sins Not Tragedies song fic





	1. Teaser

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I hope you enjoy the first chapter of this fic. It is also posted on wattpad. My username there is rainingrose

Brendon was in fucking _love_. 

And it wasn't because of the drugs or the vegas lights. 

For once. 

Brendon was in love with soon-to-be Sarah Urie. She was perfect in his eyes. 

For her, he was a cover up for her second life. 

And that was how they lived. In denial that they were anyone else but the people they were when they were together. 

Brendon looked at boys. 

Sarah _had_ another boy. _Multiple_ other boys. 

But Brendon wasn't catching on. She still loved him, but not in that way. 

He loved her too much, in that way of course. He loved her to the moon and back. He loved her like there was no tomorrow. 

But of course, there was. And it was their wedding day. 

Brendon was the happiest man alive.


	2. The Wedding

Brendon was animated. Full of energy. Ready to go. At two in the morning.

He's laying in bed alone because Sarah thought it would be nice if she spent the night with her girlfriends before the wedding. He didn't see why not and thought he could use a little alone time as well for both of them to have some time to think before the  big day.

He smiles at himself and the thought of her. She made him so happy. She was his sun and he was the moon. No... that felt wrong. She was his stars and sky. She was always there, even when the sky was grey. She made him happy. Now whenever he looked up, he would think of her.

She always twinkled and shone just like the stars. She was always there for him and so loving and possibly the greatest woman he'd ever met.

He began to recall the day they met.

"Hey Brendon! Come over here I want you to meet someone" an old friend of his said at a party he was hosting.

Brendon ever-so-reluctantly made his way through the throng of people to where his friend, Joe stood with a woman with dark hair, wide eyes and a beautiful smile. "This is Sarah, Sarah this is Brendon" he says, making all the hand movements. Brendon couldn't believe he was so reluctant to meet this looker. She was gorgeous. "Hi..." he says as Joe runs off. It isn't uncomfortable or weird it's just new and exciting and he hoped she felt it too.

"Hi... do you know why he wanted us to meet?"  
"No idea."

Now they were getting married. And Brendon was so fucking happy about it. They'd been together a good while and he decided it was right to finally do the deed and buy the Goddamn ring so he did. The proposal went well, he remembered the feeling of flying, watercolors of happiness (yellows, pinks) splashing his face. Metaphorically, of course.

So there he was. Once again on his back staring into nothing in the middle of the night as he awaited _something_ to happen and just whisk him away again.

But nothing did and that was how he fell asleep.

»•«

In the morning he woke up slightly late which wasn't too bad but he remembered how it would usually take people all day to get ready for prom or whatever fancy thing they were going to and it always went bad in the cliche way if they woke up even a little bit late.

He stumbled out with a sheet still stuck on his foot as he did so. Shaking it off as he hopped on his other foot he made his way to the mirror in their room where they would sometimes brush their teeth or make out. Usually in that order because who wanted a morning-breath kiss? Sarah always hated them.

Brendon leaned in close to look at his eyes which were kinda gross with their even heavier looking bags. Where did they think they were going? He still had a whole wedding to attend.

_His_ wedding.

He started to get all jittery at the thought - it wasn't normal for him but he just felt like he could literally bounce off the walls.

It was his _fucking wedding day._

He took one last glance at his gross under-eye bags and then decided it was time to get out some makeup.  
He did and started to apply the foundation under his eyes as well as under-eye-concealer.  Whatever it was called.

Shaking his head when he was done he put the makeup away and shuffled over to his wardrobe. The jacket he was wearing for the wedding was already out on a hanger ironed and ready. Finding a normal shirt to wear during the day until he had to leave to you to the place they were getting married.

It was an outdoor wedding though the weather looked kinda 'eh' today. There was an indoor area too where it could be held. The indoor place was kind of like a church with pews, crosses and all. It was also where the caterers would be cooking the food.

»•«

Cut to the wedding where Brendon has his suit and black tie on now with black pants.   
Sarah had yet to arrive but Brendon wasn't worried about anything.

Should have been, but he wasn't.

Once she did arrive Spencer let him know and he nodded, knowing he couldn't see he before she walked down that isle with her dad. She was probably behind a door right now somewhere getting ready. He decided to go inside for a little alone time before the ceremony started.

Pacing the pews and thinking all-too-much for his wedding day he has a hand on his chin rested on his other arm going across his torso.

And for a moment he hears an exchange going on in the corridor. Moving closer he tries to listen in because- what else was he gonna do?  
He didn't feel like being alone with his thoughts.

"What a beautiful wedding!" Says a female voice. She may be a guest or maybe one of Sarah's bridesmaids. "Yes! But..." Brendon leaned in closer because the male's voice dropped a little. "What a shame the poor groom's bride is a _whore_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! Leave feedback if you did, please!


	3. Whore

An anger of a fire starts inside him with just the match of the word whore leaving the person's mouth.

Sarah was not a whore. Sarah was his to touch and she didn't share her body for money or more eyes watching her. She didn't do that. She was his Sarah. His beautiful, wondrous, thoughtful Sarah.

He didn't own her by far. He didn't see her every night and he certainly didn't see her every morning when he woke up because she is always out on her little runs.

Would she do this?

He chimes in, an anger made of fire that was only growing as he pushes the door open and spits "haven't you people ever heard of closing the Goddamn door?"

The two people in the corridor watched him with frightened, glassy eyes. The one bridesmaid he recognized as Rose and he shakes his head as he looks to the waiter. He didn't know him by name but Brendon felt the need to punch him in the mouth.

Rose was shocked, a pastel-pink nailed hand lifted over her mouth with wide eyes he takes one last glance at her and leaves through the front door of the church and down the path that led to the vineyards.

He had to deal with it. The thought of her being watched or touched or... he shivered. Deciding that it's much better to face these kinds of things with poise and rationality.

When Sarah came out of that room he'd be waiting for her. He needed to talk to her in person. He needed to know the truth. He wanted to hear that they were talking about some other bride at another wedding in a different world. He wanted them to be talking like old friends, recalling an old wedding they'd been to or maybe met at. He wanted it to be a mistake.

But even walking through the vineyard alone he knew deep down, the things they said were true. Who else would they be talking about?

His phone rang in his slacks and he picks it up, eyes starting to water as he realizes this is probably his wake-up call to get back there and do his thing.

But there wouldn't be anything to do.

It was Dallon.  
"Brendon! Where are you?" His voice crackles on the other end. There wasn't much cell reception up here.

"The vineyard. Get Sarah and meet me at that white fountain, okay?"

Dallon sounded confused. "You're not supposed to see the bride before she walks down the isle, Brendon." But here was something in his voice that terrified The Groom.

It was the sound of guilt and he'd recognize that tint of nervousness behind Dallon's tone anyday.

"Dallon... do you know why I'm doing this?" His own voice scares him. Nothing angered him so much as this. So much as his friend knowing his wife was cheating and whoring around. Probably with Dallon, too.  
The man was soon to find if his friend had known about her.

"I'll get Sarah." Dallon says in a small voice and hangs up before Brendon could get madder.

The suited man made his way back to where the ceremony would be held. Going to the place he told Dallon to meet him with Sarah.

He remembered looking at pictures of this place with Sarah on their couch and her laughing as he made jokes about it while scrolling through the pics. They both knew it was right for them, though.

They'd laughed so hard that day. They were in bliss knowing they had made it this far, picking out where they wanted to say their vows. They were "in love."

He'd liked the fountain when they first drove through here to take a look in person because they'd liked it so much. He remembered how she had sat on the edge of it and he'd snapped a picture with their Polaroid.

Happiness was a memory with this fountain.

Where was it now? That happiness? Brendon just felt like a man drunk on sadness and regret for ever falling for her.

He had respect, though. It must have taken so much effort to keep this hidden. Though she is a slut, she's a clever one.

Brendon rounded the top of the hill and sees the two friends standing beside the fountain, a gentle wind blowing Sarah's beautiful lace dress and Dallon's black jacket behind him.

"Brendon!" He says as he sees the man.   
Brendon doesn't make eye contact.

"Sarah." He says and his voice wavers. Tears are spiking his eyes they're made of anger and clenched fists.

"Brendon. How did you find out?" And that's all she cares about? He won't give her the satisfaction in knowing.

"None of your Goddamn business." He hisses, and anger behind his words that even he didn't understand.

She jumped back and looked at him with saddening eyes. "You did this, Sarah. You pay."  
He had to pay too, but that wasn't what he was trying to get across right now.

"Brendon, I love y-" "-Bullshit!" He yelled. "You don't love me. If you loved me, why would you do this? Huh?"

Sarah knew Brendon like the back of her hand. When he started talking like this, with the little 'huh?''s added in at the end he was angered beyond compare.

She could see the sadness in his eyes when he looked at her. His pools of brown emitting a feeling she hoped he never had to experience again.

"And you." He spits, turning on Dallon with a rage-filled movement. "You fucking knew." He says, taking a step towards his best man. Dallon takes a step back, his hands raised. His eyebrows high and eyes wide as Brendon glared daggers, arrows, sticks, anything that could hurt Dallon towards him with only his eyes.

"Look, Brendon. I-"   
"You don't get to explain." Brendon snapped.   
"You're fucking horrid, you know that?" He says, looking at both of them. "So sick and twisted. And to think I was this fucking stupid."

He turns around and swipes a hand through his hair roughly only to have one piece fall back down over his forehead.

Turning back to look at them, he sighs. But he's not done yet. "I mean, technically our marriage is saved." A shrug and an eh.

"You're still a fucking slut." He says, eyebrows narrowed downward. He looked devilish in the evening light.

"And I bet you two fucked, too!" He says with a wide smile, clapping like a child when both of them shared a sideways glance as they faced him stiffly. "Huh," he says still with that wide, crazed smile.

"I knew there was something behind those rushed good morning calls when you were away, Sarah. And meaning in your eyes when you looked at her, Dallon." He laughs. A little quieter now.

"I fucking knew." He whispers. He takes a seat on the side of the fountain. Sarah watched him with sad eyes as he rubs his temples.   
He did that when he was stressed at his desk at 3 in the morning as she stood in the doorway with tea or coffee, ready to comfort.

When she was home, at least.

There was always excuses. Always lies. And she was half-glad it was over with. But with those lies she was also loosing a friend. Her love. And she didn't know what she would do.

"You were fucking right, Sarah." Brendon says in a squeaky whisper as he looks up at her and only her with tears on his cheeks and in his eyes.

"I should have never fallen in love with you."

At first, she didn't know what he was referencing. But then it hit her. One of their first dates was at a karaoke place. She'd done a song based off a bad relationship only because she'd liked the artist. It sung about how the man should never fall for her, he was sure to get hurt by the fall and be left on the ground. The two would make fun of it now, saying how glad they were to have found each other and how the song meant nothing and how Sarah was wrong, then. But now she was right. So damn right.

Brendon turned away from both of them. His back to his sky and stars and all his troubles. He was leaving.

But not before grabbing a little booze*. He needed it.   
Correction *A lot of it.


	4. Grief

Patrick didn't know the difference between a drunk man and a sober man. 

He always picked the drunk ones to go home with. He wasn't like this in High School. Then, he was actually responsible and not a slut. I guess people change. I haven't.

Nothing wrong with being a slut. Because when you're a slut like him you get kinda attached but not to their personality but their body. It's a lust attraction for Patrick. Ryan didn't understand, and he didn't have to. 

The bar was kinda packed this evening. Ryan looked around to see if there was anyone who looked sober enough to be approachable. He needed someone he could talk to while Patrick did his slutty little thing with that guy over there. Ryan could only hope this one would work out so he could take the two home to have sex and never see each other again. 

He would be lying if he said he didn't find Patrick to be attractive at times but who doesn't? 

A man just pushed the doors open. Some mix of emotions played out on his face like a film reel as he made his way, it looked like, bleary-eyed and stumbling to the bar. Sitting at a stool with a sad puppy expression on his face, he ordered a beer he didn't look like he needed. Taking a more-than-ready sip he sat the glass down and looked around for the first time. 

Coincidentally his eyes landed on Ryan, focusing and the moving on. His drunk-ass brain couldn't quite comprehend what he was seeing just yet. Little did Ryan know, he'd be taking that drunk-ass home because Patrick thought he was hot. 

(Great timing there, Patty Boy).

The boy at the bar was the least of Ryan's thoughts, though he was still there somewhere, floating around Ryan's head.

From Ryan's spot on the wall he watched as the guy who just walked in looking pretty dazed was being hit on by his best friend. Wow, what a night already. He was going to have to see that face in the morning while he made breakfast for him and the off he went to do whatever boring job he had to go back to. Maybe even a wife. 

'Trick would want him out right after breakfast anyway. It was easier that way. The pair usually never saw the one-night-stand ever again unless it was really good. Which wasn't really common.

Ryan wouldn't mind seeing him every day. 

But he knew how Patrick would want it and how it always went. He wasn't going to mess with their usual plan now just because some vulnerable-looking guy decided to go home with them. 

Brendon had been coherent and fine, it seemed but the more he drank the less it seemed that was true. Ryan had watched him down two beers after his arrival. Whatever he was trying to forget seemed dire. Ryan wondered what it was he was trying to cover up.

Ryan pushed his way towards the two at the bar. "Is this the one?" He asks after tapping Pat on the shoulder. He needed to know so he could get out and to the car to pick the two up to go home. Pat nodded and offered an evil smile Ryan brushed off like it was nothing. 

\----

When they reached the apartment Patrick, Ryan and whom Ryan had learned was named Brendon stumbled inside, falling over their own feet. It had been an interesting car ride, with Brendon mumbling about some betrayal in a very clearly upset tone as Ryan passed a church. Maybe he had believed once. Maybe he was as confused about his religion as Ryan was. 

Patrick didn't end up getting laid that night. Thankfully. Patrick wouldn't ever take advantage of someone, so the drunken man just passed out on their couch. Ryan made himself a midnight snack in the kitchen, looking over at the passed out boy on the couch. He went over to sit beside him in the comfy chair next to the couch. It wasn't a stalker kinda thing where he watched Brendon sleep, it was just where Ryan liked to sit, also it was his chair. Patrick wasn't thrilled about not getting laid, so he'd gone to bed right after he realized Brendon was a lost cause. Maybe he'd even let the poor guy in a suit stay for a little while in the morning. 

Ryan silently hoped he would so he could figure out why Brendon was so dead-set on forgetting. Ryan was intrigued by the man at the bar last night just as he is right now, watching his back rise and fall evenly as he slept. He was curious, and closure was what he craved. 

People drank to forget or have a good time but he hadn't seen Brendon smile once the whole time. Maybe when he'd cracked a stupid joke but never again if so. It was instantly gone. 

Ryan listed the possibilities in his mind, thinking of how he showed up to the bar already drunk so he'd been 

1\. drinking and driving

2\. in a suit for some reason. And a really nice one, at that. All you really had to do was look at it and it was very apparent the event he had been coming from meant something to him. 

3\. Brendon looking at his phone and grimacing every time he got a text or a call, not answering any of them. He just stared at the screen. 

Where do you wear suits? Fancy events, funerals (though it was kind navy), weddings, parties. Maybe work, if he could buy that suit he had to be doing something that payed well. 

Ryan realized he was dwelling on this more than normal. He couldn't be focusing on this at two in the morning. He needed to finish he snack and go back to bed. He could find out in the morning, as long as the man was still here. Hopefully he was. Something about him... made Ryan want to know more. It was always a thing Ryan had, to ask someone their life story. He didn't mind listening and always learned something even if it was small. He enjoyed learning about other people.

He intended to know as much as he could about this stranger before he walked out of that door.


	5. Sober

Brendon was confused when he woke up. A blinking, squinting mess. It wasn't his room, it wasn't his home and Sarah wasn't beside him.

Sarah...

Like a tsunami, the previous day's events came crashing down onto him in a tidal wave of hurt and grief. The last thing he remembered was being hit on by a fedora and then going home with it. Oh god.

A sound came from behind the door. Clinking of plates and the smell of coffee. A raised eyebrow as he pushed the covers off and realized he didn't have anything on but his white shirt and underwear.

Sighing he tugs on his pants that were left folded on the dresser in the room before he pushes open the door to find a dark haired man perched on a small floral couch in a living room that led outside to a sliding door and a balcony.

The sun shown in different retractions of light from the various rainbow-crystal shards that were hanging in their sliding windows. Rainbows shown across the apartment.

"Hey" his voice was groggy. The man on the couch looked up from his book. "Hey, uh, Patrick's on the balcony."

Brendon honestly didn't know who the fuck Patrick was or who this random fuck was but he really wanted to know so he could get out.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" He asks, clearly still a little drunk as he squints at the man who raises both eyebrows. "I'm Ryan Ross I took you home last night with my roommate Patrick but then he realized you were too drunk and you guys didn't have sex so you don't even have to worry about it." Ryan blinked and then looked back down at his book after his wondering gaze lingered on Brendon for a few seconds longer. 

Wow. That was a lot of information. Brendon walked past the couch and to the sliding glass door that led to the small balcony where a man in all black in boxers stood with a cup of tea as he gazed out to the city.

"Um. Hi I'm sorry to bother but I'm Brendon"  
"I know you flirted with me last night."   
"Uh yeah I'm sorry about that.. look if I did anything, threw up anywhere I can clean it up I apologize for anything I did." He said with a remorseful smile.

"Nah you didn't do anything." Patrick said. He turned to look at Brendon. "Damn. You're a fucking mess." He says with a grin and an amused glint in his eye.

He went back inside and Brendon followed as he sat down in a singular white-wing backed chair in the living room next to the floral couch. Brendon sat on the other side of the couch, practically hugging the arm rest making sure Ryan wasn't uncomfortable (although he hadn't even looked up from his book yet.)

"So" says Patrick with a raised eyebrow. He lifts his drink to have a sip. "We were both kinda wondering.. why were you in a really nice outfit for a bar?" He laughed "I mean, usually that's for casual stuff. Also, who's Sarah?" Brendon stiffened visibly. Ryan glanced up, placing a bookmark between the pages. Crackling fire held the heat between their locked eyes. Ryan could practically feel the uncomfortable topic rise to the top of Brendon's skin like a lava bubble. 

"I.." Brendon swallowed hard. He knew they could hear. "I just found out that my fiancé had been fucking my best friend." He said softly breaking eye contact. "Yesterday, I was supposed to be married. Today I was supposed to be the happiest newly-wed alive. But I'm here. Wherever I am."

"Oh shit dude." Says Patrick, leaning forward in his chair. He tried to cover his mouth. Ryan's eyebrows rose, sending wrinkles over his forehead. Brendon swallowed again and look back at his tapping sock-clad feet. 

"I am so sorry, Brendon." He said it slow and true. That was the most sincere apology he'd gotten since he'd been betrayed by his wife and best friend (considering these strangers were the only people he'd told, really.) Brendon's eyebrows drew together and his eyes started watering. 

This wasn't going to be easy. Getting over Sarah. Getting over his "past life." 

Maybe these people here could get him going in the right direction. 

They can help him find a different track and help him get onto it, because clearly the getting married and having children one was out of the picture. At least with Sarah.

Ryan shook his head. That was a crazy thought. Someone in the room was sadder than he was. Odd. Pretty. Odd. Indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short! I have many more ideas for this fic, so keep reading!


	6. Thinking Too Much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brendon's in his mind. this chapter is in first person to show what he's thinking. the next chapter will go back to normal third person.

This is the worst thing I've ever lost. 

I thought we'd be immortal. We'd be together until the end of time. Until the Earth blew to bits. Until we eventually died because the Earth couldn't stay alive any longer. I thought our love was stronger than she had made it out to be. She'd been so...so goddamn insecure about where she was in her job and with her friends lately. And here I'd thought it was a normal thing, and that I'd help her get through it. We were going to get married, and it would be the happiest night of her life. (Until we had a kid, of course). 

But these are all stereo types. Love doesn't last forever. No one falls in love and stays in love like how it was in the beginning. As the years go by, things change. Some for the better, some for the worst. 

And the worst part about the whole thing, we weren't even married. I didn't even know if she even loved me. She cheated on me. She lied to me, countless times. She would never have thought I'd find out. And what if I did? And we were already married and happy and then, in an instant, the moon comes crashing down from out of the sky on top of our heads and we're all crushed. We don't know what to do with our lives anymore. 

We've been cheated out of happiness. 

What's she going to do now? She better quit her second job waiting tables with me because I'm not doing it anymore if she is. Silly, middle school kid, baby-ish thing to do but I seriously wouldn't be able to deal with her waiting with me. 

Collapse  
I've never been so in love with someone and so angry at them at the same time. 

It hurts so much because I know I wasn't good enough for her when we started dating. I'd thought, in the back of my mind, that she was going to eventually leave me. But she stayed. Long enough for me to decide that she was the one. So I'd asked her to be my wife. 

And it almost happened. We almost made it. Forever was almost in our hands. 

But she didn't take her lovely chances. She took my best friend by the tie one night after work and she spilled her metaphorical guts. And then he fucked her. Probably all over his apartment. He told me that he likes to do that sort of thing. 

I like to stick to the bed for the first time with someone new, but okay. Do whatever makes you happy. (Fucking freak.) 

The worst thing I've ever lost is my virginity to this stupid girl who thought she could love me and then not even think to leave me when the scene got nasty. 

She thought she could just let it pass, all the guys she'd been with when we were still together. I'm still confused as to how she even did it. I can't have been completely blind to all of it. No. 

But it seemed so. 

And here I am, alone in Ryan, Patrick, and Spencer's apartment. Sitting on that floral couch. 

I wipe my wet cheeks when I notice that I'm crying and I have been for a while. 

It's better when Ryan gets back from works and sees me in the same place as when they left hours before. It's better because he sits down next to me and asks why I've been crying and if I need anything. 

Without waiting for my answer he gets up to get me a cold glass of water. I sigh and take it and while I'm drinking I realize that I really needed it. Drained by body of a bunch of water from crying. That's just great. 

But he cares. He talks to me even if I don't talk back. We're hardly friends, but I know we will be in a short time. I know he genuinely cares about Patrick and Spencer. I hope he'll care about me like he does them one day.


End file.
